


Open Up Your Heart To Me

by UniversallyEcho



Series: The Adventures Of Ámbar and Emilia [2]
Category: Soy Luna (TV)
Genre: Acts Of Rebellion, Bars and Pubs, Drinking, F/M, Female Friendship, References to Depression, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Ámbar Smith Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversallyEcho/pseuds/UniversallyEcho
Summary: "Since the day she found out Pedro, Nico, Matteo and Simón were staying over at the mansion she decided to recruit Emilia to stay with her until they left. The act of convincing Emilia involved a lot of begging, humiliation and sucking up but Ámbar gathered that the mere fact of not having to face Simón alone would be a victory. She knew Emilia could be a lot to handle and might get on her nerves but assumed the pros would outweigh the cons. Now, as she was awakened by a frantic Emilia informing her that they were to go to a newly opened club for her to meet a date, Ámbar stands corrected."Or; Emilia drags Ámbar to a club.





	1. You Think, That You'll Die Without Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cynthia_Fangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_Fangirl/gifts).



> Title taken from the song "Crying in the club" by Camila Cabello.

It’s safe to say that Ámbar enjoys sleeping. She’s not one of those people who are able to survive off of anything less than eight full hours of uninterrupted rest. Not once in her entire life has she ever pulled an all nighter or stayed up past ten thirty. Which is impressive considering she doesn’t know many highschool graduates who can say the same. Though not surprising since not even the perfectionist aspect of her brain could overpower her body’s need of sleep, even when it came to homework. 

She once saw the quote “I like sleeping. It’s like being dead without the commitment.” online and it’s safe to say that’s how she likes to live her life. Which is exactly why she was currently laying in bed, staring at her ceiling, wondering to herself why on earth she was still awake at one in the morning? 

The answer was quite simple: Emilia.

“Can we just pretend you didn’t make this suggestion and go back to sleep please?” She adds that last word in hopes of flattering Emilia into submission. When her only response back is the light scuffle of feet and the sound of clothes being thrown around she knows her plan has failed. 

Since the day she found out Pedro, Nico, Matteo and Simón were staying over at the mansion she decided to recruit Emilia to stay with her until they left. The act of convincing Emilia involved a lot of begging, humiliation and sucking up but Ámbar gathered that the mere fact of not having to face Simón alone would be a victory. She knew Emilia could be a lot to handle and might get on her nerves but assumed the pros would outweigh the cons. Now, as she was awakened by a frantic Emilia informing her that they were to go to a newly opened club for her to meet a date, Ámbar stands corrected. 

With a hefty sigh, Ámbar pushed herself into a sitting position to watch groggily as Emilia shifted through her clothing to find _club worthy_ outfits. 

Apparently, Emilia grew tired of Matteo and downloaded tinder to find a new person to obsess over, where she found a decently attractive guy who was into the same rocker band as her. He must also be a vampire like Emilia who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of nighttime because that’s the only explanation Ámbar can find on why they decided to go on a date to the trendy new club that opened at midnight. 

“Come on Ámbar, all his friends are going to be there and there’ll be live music!” 

The statement might make her feel better if this wasn’t the fourth time Emilia was stating it. It had become Emilia’s go to retort at any of Ámbar’s sceptic judgment. No matter what she said it was met with a “you love live music!” or “you’ll get to meet cute guys and get over Simón”. Her most recent reason on why they should go out was “You can come home with hickeys and make Simón jealous.” This idiocy was what persuaded Ámbar to go back under her covers and pretend she couldn’t hear her, rather than retort back a response.

When Emilia forcefully applied makeup on Ámbar’s face and scanned through her closet Ámbar was able to close her eyes and imagine it wasn’t happening. Now though, as Emilia was almost finished fully compiling two outfits onto Ámbars floor, the time to face reality was getting dangerously close. 

“Whose is this?” Emilia asks suddenly, holding an article of clothing Ámbar can’t really see from the bed. Confused as to why Emilia would ask this while going through the clothes in _her_ closet, Ámbar resentfully gets up from the bed.

“What are you talking about - ” 

It feels as though someone sucker punched her in the gut when she catches sight of the gray wool sweater in Emilia’s hands.

“Oh, that, that um, I bought that for when it gets colder.” Ámbar manages to stumble through the sentence but can tell immediately Emilia doesn’t buy it. The truth is that she stole that sweater from the washing machine when Anna was doing the laundry. Which may not seem so bad, until you take into consideration the fact that the sweater may or may not belong to a certain guitarist currently living in the house.

It wasn’t her fault, okay? She just saw the sweater neatly folded on top of the machine and wondered how it’s soft fabric would feel against her skin. She had planned on wearing it to sleep, clutching the sleeves and wishing it was Simón holding her close but with Emilia sleeping over, the sweater gathered dust in her closet for the past couple days. She regrets not finding a better hiding spot for it. 

Ámbar can already tell Emilia’s beginning to lose interest in the subject as her eyes have begun wandering, giving Ámbar the perfect opportunity to change the subject.

“Are the outfits done? We wouldn’t want to arrive too late.”

Emilia’s eyes narrow at the abruptness of the statement but thankfully doesn’t push the subject further while Ámbar guides her to the other side of her closet, at the bottom where she keeps her shoes, far _far_ away from the sweater. It doesn’t take long for Emilia to find a pair she likes. Dragging her to a mirror the two girls look at their reflection, one in satisfaction the other in sorrow.

Ámbar knows she looks good, gifted with an above average height and natural blonde locks that her mini black lace dress accentuates. She should be happy with what she sees in the mirror. Even so, the girl staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. _Since when has she had dark circles so bad not even concealer could cover them?_ Even her cheeks, usually round to soften her features had shrunk as a consequence of her lack of appetite. 

She didn’t realise how many family dinners she had been missing recently. It wasn’t on purpose. She tried to go but everytime she got close enough to round the corner and walk into the room, she could overhear their cheerful laughter. When she glimpsed Luna sitting in _her_ seat, while everyone else smiled like they were in a family portrait, she knew she couldn’t do it and resorted to sitting in her room alone instead. Her only real meals now, other than pieces of fruit and toast she would take from the leftovers when everyone already left, were when Emilia would force her out to new restaurants and cafes. And even then it was only if the nerves and stress twisting her stomach didn’t force her to throw it up.

Earlier that day, technically yesterday now, when she finally met up with Sharon and confronted her about no longer wanting to be a part of her revenge plan, she hoped Sharon would just admit defeat. Maybe apologize to the Valentes and things could go back to normal. Maybe it was too much to ask for, but somewhere in her heart she expected her godmother to see the physical toll weighing her down and feel empathy. _Did she really not care about Ámbars wellbeing at all? If her own guardian, the person who single handedly raised Ámbar didn’t care then who did?_

She blinks away her demons and looks back at the mirror to see Emilia fixing her skirt. Ámbar smiles slightly, glad to have at least one person at her side. Even if it was for the wrong reasons. She takes Emilia’s hand and motions for them to go downstairs. If she was going to be sad and nostalgic she might as well be drunk for it. It _was_ what was expected from her after all.

They sneak down the stairs as quietly as they can praying everyone is asleep and in their rooms like they’re supposed to be. Unfortunately for Ámbar, things can never go as she needs them to and as they pass the living room the voice of none other than Matteo Balsáno speaks out,

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Frozen in her spot Emilia looks to Ámbar for how to proceed with the situation. Ámbar turns to find exactly the people she was trying to avoid sitting on the couches watching her every move. Ámbars heart is stuck in her throat when she spots Simón. His hair was tousled from sleeping on it and almost his entire body is covered by the thick blanket he’s wrapped around himself. What she would do to be able to cuddle next to him instead of being dragged around by Emilia.

She catches him admire her as his eyes drift up and down, taking her in. When his eyes make contact with hers they both look away immediately. Ámbar forces herself to turn her gaze back to Matteo who’s smirking knowingly at her. 

The scowl reappears on her face as she asks “What are you still doing up?”

“Ah, ah, I asked you first.” Matteo looks way to amused at the situation he found her in and Ámbar has to bury her urge to wipe that grin off his face.

“We’re going out.” Ámbar tries to keep her answer as vague as possible on purpose but this illusion of mystery is ruined immediately as Emilia adds, “To a club.” 

_Yes thank you Emilia, to a club, how could she have forgotten to mention that small fact?_

Her sarcastic inner monologue is broken when she catches sight of Simón’s disapproving look. Ámbar tries to brush away the guilt as she grabs Emilia’s arm to get out of the house. She can still feel Simón’s eyes on her as she walks away and out the door. 

As expected, as soon as they walk into the club Emilia’s off to find her date leaving Ámbar to face the bar alone. The club is way more busy than she expected it to be and she has to push her way through crowds and couples attached at the lips to find a stool against the bar. She orders a martini, figuring that she might as well make the best of her situation and makes herself comfortable against the ledge facing the crowd. 

When she was younger, Sharon would take her to a lot of skating competitions against her will. It wasn’t that she didn’t like skating or competitions. She did, skating made her feel free and any chance to win something and gain Sharon’s attention was an automatic yes in Ámbar’s books. The only problem, was that Sharon almost never showed up. Ámbar would be dropped off and set aside on her own while watching her competitors groomed and praised by their parents. She thinks it's how she grew such a competitive spirit. She needed to prove to everyone else that just because she didn’t have a mom and dad to cheer her on didn’t mean that she was any lesser in value.

Eventually she got used to the feeling of neglect. Using that time to people watch like she was now. She cups her cold drink dripping with condensation as she listens to the band playing on a tiny rectangular stage. There are speakers on both sides of the stage, amplifying the music until the booming bass drowns out her thoughts. To waste time as Emilia has fun with her new boy she makes a drinking game for herself. Take a shot every time you catch a couple making out. 

The amount of girls she spotted with their dresses cut low revealing cleavage as they bit their lips and swung their hips should have been a clue to how much alcohol this game would cause Ámbar to consume. As a newly legal adult her alcohol tolerance was low so it didn’t take long for her to get buzzed. Even so she continued to drink. Letting each bitter swallow push down the emotions that were trying to bubble up inside her. She loses count of how many drinks she orders by the time her vision’s blurry and her mind fuzzy. The last thing she thing remembers is walking around, letting the music guide her when she makes out Emilia’s voice in the crowd. 

By the time she’s regained her senses, Emilia’s pushing her onto the familiar surface of her bed. Tucking her in while huffing about the inconveniences she’s caused. She sighs as she takes in Ámbar’s appearance. She lets Ámbar know that she hopes the drinks were worth the hangover she gets when she wakes up in another couple hours for training. Ámbar knows it won’t be. It never is. But at least the alcohol did it’s job while it had to. For a couple hours there she forgot how sad she was.


	2. You Fear, That You'll Never Meet Another So Pure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirtless Simon, I feel like that's all that needs to be said. Oh also Matteo being dumb.

The sun shined through panel windows, reflecting off the white tile on the ground to engulf everyone in the kitchen in a soft glow. There was a feeling of calm throughout the room as they took in the gentle breeze blowing against them as birds outside chirped at the arrival of an early morning.

Monica, Miguel and Alfredo had already left for a conference much  _ much _ earlier, when the sun was still in hiding and a car couldn’t be found on the road for miles, leaving the teenagers to roam on their own for the day. 

There were still some workers in the mansion with instructions to keep an eye on the kids so the adults weren’t worried to leave. Not to mention this was a good trial period to test their responsibilities since they were all blooming into independent young people. Even so, a substantial platter cluttered with fruits, juice and breakfast foods was left on the kitchen table just in case.

Luna watched fondly at her side where Matteo and Nico argued about deciding a melody for a new song collaboration. Her eyes were set specifically on Matteo’s syrup covered lips as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, struggling to get his point across. She faced her front to catch Pedro watching her amused as she attempted to act casual and brush off what was very obvious ogling.

This was exactly the kind of early mornings Luna always dreamed she would have with her friends. The kind where they could surround themselves in comfortable silence and simply take in each others presence without the face of conflict. It's at that moment that an obnoxious and loud crunch and slurp of cereal shatters the undisturbed peace.

Well  _ almost _ the type of mornings Luna dreamed of. 

The culprit responsible for destroying this tranquil atmosphere is sat idly on the kitchen counter watching them with a Cheshire Cat like smirk. Her legs are dangling off the marble as she swings them back and forth, leaning back and using her arms to distribute her weight as she watches them smugly. The bowl of cereal is balanced carefully on her lap while she continues to obnoxiously chew very loudly.

She’s been like that since they first showed up in the kitchen, Luna realizes. She wonders how long Emilia’s been there, sitting in the same spot, and why Ámbar wasn’t with her. When Ámbar first announced that Emilia would be sleeping over for the next couple days Luna had assumed the two girls would be attached at the hip. She thought she would have to put up with their unpleasant chattering and giggles as they roamed the mansion together. In an unexpected turn of events though, Emilia was often found choosing the rooms Luna’s friends were occupying to sit in and eavesdrop quietly, making them uncomfortable, while Ámbar stayed locked up in her room doing whatever it was she always did in there. Luna can’t quite decide which one is worse, her expectation or the reality.

It’s at that moment that the offputting noises push Luna over the edge, “Can you stop doing that?” she bites out harshly.

She regrets saying those words immediately as a satisfied smile covers Emilia’s face. Of course she would get joy out finally getting Luna to snap.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She replies cheerfully before continuing to enjoy her meal.

_ Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.  _

Luna is about to get up and find a way to smack some sense into Emilia when a dazed and sleepy Simón makes his way into the room, barely missing the chair in front of him that he almost knocks into.

“Has anyone seen my sweater?”

Simón asks while rummaging through the kitchen fumbly taking the time to check each surface he comes across. The others watch curiously as he continues silently reaching across marble counters and against the backs of chairs and under tables to find what he’s looking for. He does all this with mess of morning hair and a groggy facial expression until finally sighing in defeat a few minutes later. 

Standing in the middle of the room with shoulders slumped and both hands on his hips he asks again, more clearly this time, to those sat at the table, “Has anyone seen my sweater?” 

Luna would answer but it’s taking a minute for her brain to compute why there was a shirtless Simón in her kitchen.

Pedro is the first to answer as Nico still hasn’t looked up from his phone and Matteo is glancing warily from the boy standing in front of him to Luna’s slightly open mouth. Not to mention Emilia was taking plenty of entertainment from the chaos unfolding in front of her.

“Uh, what does it look like?” His words come out slightly jumbled with the slice of toast he was about to eat still half in his mouth.

“The grey one, that I always wear when we rehearse.”

His obvious exasperation breaks Luna from her momentary trance and she goes to help solve his dilemma but before she can Emilia interrupts them with a question of her own.

“Does the sweater have a hood and small letter S on the left shoulder?” She questions curiously, as sets her cereal bowl aside, indicating how invested she is in his answer.

“Yeah, how did you know? Did you see it?” He asks enthusiastically hoping she’ll be able to solve his dilemma. 

Matteo, however, has much less faith in Emilia since, just as Simón finishes his question, he adds, “Did you steal it?”

“Oh please, I do  _ not  _ have any desire to own a raggedy worn down sweatshirt of yours.” She rejects the claim haughtily. Then looks down at her hand, glancing at her chipped nail polish as she continues nonchalantly, “You might want to ask Ámbar though.”

“Ámbar?” 

_ Why would Ámbar know where his sweater is? _

Simón doesn’t seem to understand what Emilia’s hinting at as he continues to stare at her questioningly. His brows are furrowed and his head is tilted just slightly to the side, mimicking almost perfectly what a confused puppy would look like and starkly contrasting his very naked, very fit torso. And  _ wow _ okay so maybe Emilia understands a little more now what Ámbar sees in him.

“Oh you know, just because I saw her putting away some laundry earlier.” She’s still going to attempt to mess with him though because he may be attractive but he’s also a mushy loser who does more harm to Ámbar than good. 

She doesn’t exactly know herself what she wants to happen but she’s hoping he’ll confront Ámbar, she’ll taunt him to hide her vulnerability, he’ll take the bait and they’ll get into another argument about who knows what. That way, it would fuel the anger in Ámbar long enough for the RedSharks to win their next competition. It might be a little counterproductive considering encounters with Simón are known to send Ámbar into spirals of despair and gloom with emotional floodgates opening but even  _ that _ sounded better than the shell of a human Ámbar had currently become.

Before Simón has the chance to process the information thrown at him Emilia’s phone rings, indicating the end of their conversation. He looks down at the half eaten bowl of cereal she’s placed gingerly in his hands as she answers the call.

Interestingly enough it’s Ramiro on the other end asking her if she’s been on twitter or instagram yet. She answers no since her big plans of ruining Luna’s morning and eavesdropping on their conversations hadn’t left her spare time to waste away on social media. She’d normally take the chance now to lecture him on how valuable her time is and reprimand him for contacting her without an emergency on the line but there’s something so odd about the fact that he asked her about social media that keeps her glued to the phone. 

So when she’s told to search #drunkblondeheartbreak she does so without a second thought even though she didn’t think they’re friendship had evolved to the status of meme sharing. What she finds instead of a cute animal eating large amounts of food though is alarming to say the least.

Trending on all forms of social media in Buenos Aires is a clip of Ámbar Smith very drunk, very sad, and on stage with the live band at the club they were at last night. Well, there goes Emilia’s entire future plans. There’s absolutely no doubt in her mind that the second Ámbar get’s news of this she will kill her with her own two hands.

I mean it’s not Emilia’s fault Ámbar is a melancholic drunk. Okay so sure it was her idea they go out, and maybe it wasn’t the  _ best _ idea to leave her dispirited best friend grieving by herself next to bottles of tequila but in her defense she didn’t think Ámbar would actually make it on stage without security handling the situation. Unfortunately it turns out the drummer had also just been dumped and wanted to ‘empower women to utilize singing as an emotional outlet’ meaning that by the time Emilia dragged Ámbar out of the club people already had digital evidence of her pouring her heart out in the form of lyrics. 

What she hadn’t expected was for this clip to go viral, earning the support of many fans. Half of which were girls going through relationship struggles themselves and relating heavily while the other half was filled with men, and some women, in their early twenties admiring Ámbar and trying to figure out who the tragic beauty was.

Emilia brings her focus back to the video and notices it has 15 000 views. Okay, that’s not that bad. The chances of people at the roller finding this video probably wasn’t even that high. She just had to make sure no one saw it for the next couple hours until this whole thing blew over. Easy enough. 

Except what Emilia doesn’t realize during her state of deliberation is that Nico has been scrolling through twitter for the past few minutes now and just got to the post of Ámbar. It takes him a couple seconds to realize what he’s staring at giving Emilia the perfect opportunity to pluck the phone out of his hands. A sound of protest is made as she attempts to delete the app.

She knows she’s just temporarily prolonging the inevitable as he can easily just redownload the app but there’s not much else she can do at the moment. 

Fumes can almost be seen shooting out of Luna’s ears as she bursts with anger. Emilia had never seen the brunette so angry and it was actually a little startling to see her stand up with such ferocity. Emilia decides anger doesn’t suit her. When she tried to glare it looked more like she was squinting.

“That is it! You are a guest in this house. You can’t just do whatever you please!”

Emilia can’t hide her snort because that is honestly the most hypocritical sentence she’s ever heard. See this was her problem with Luna and her little group. They thought  _ so _ highly of themselves. As if Luna had never hurt a fly in her life before when all she’d done since her arrival was make Ámbar’s life a living hell. But then Ámbar is the bad guy for trying to get a control on what she once had and take it back. Well Emilia wasn’t going to let them get away with it. She wasn’t going to stand back and let Ámbar crumble under the pressure.

“Oh I’m  _ so _ sorry. Did Ámbar invite a guest into your shared house without you're explicit permission. Is this guest now making you  _ uncomfortable _ ?” 

Her condescending tone drives her point home and she can see the gears in Luna’s head turn. The second Luna realizes what Emilia is referring to can be seen all over her face. Luna hadn’t even realized that bringing in two of Ámbars ex-boyfriends may not have been the most considerate move. Especially since it meant Ámbar would be forced to see them all smiling and laughing together like a big happy family while her godmother had left her alone to fend for herself. 

She tries to rationalize with herself. It’s not like Luna did it to be malicious, she hadn’t even known Ámbar would be affected since she acted like an unemotional robot everytime Luna tried to speak with her. And besides, so what if this was a little hard on Ámbar. After everything she did to Luna and the roller team, didn’t she deserve it? But that’s not very fair either is it? Because after all, it wasn’t completely Ámbar’s fault. She was lied to too. 

There’s not much more time for Luna to ponder this new realization as Ramiro’s voice shouting Emilia’s name through the speaker of her phone forces Emilia to drop the subject for now. She doesn’t hear much once Emilia puts the phone to her ear but Luna thinks she overhears the words ‘Benicio’ and ‘Come fast’.

Despite knowing the fact that if Emilia didn’t leave to deal with this Benicio situation it would come back to bite her in the ass, she was hesitant to leave the mansion immediately. Ámbar was still upstairs in her room alone and dealing with a major hangover that someone with an outside opinion would deem Emilia’s fault. It wasn’t her fault, _ not really at least _ , but she was feeling a lot of guilt.

Matteo catches the way her gaze flutters from a bottle of advil on the counter to the still shirtless Simón and lastly back to her cellphone.  _ ‘Aw that’s sweet, the demon is worried about her friend’  _ He thinks to himself. 

The logical next step would be going back to thinking about his song or check on Luna who is still standing with her arms crossed against her chest, upset. For some reason though the sentence about Ámbar knowing the whereabouts of Simón’s sweatshirt Emilia proclaimed is still repeating itself in his mind. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Simón and Ámbar had a sexual tension that followed them no matter where they were or what they did but he knew Ámbar well enough to know that she needed a little push in the right direction. And who better to help her in the love department than her ex-boyfriend?

Maybe he would give her a quick visit. Besides, he never followed logic anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! This is finally up. To be honest this wasn't supposed to have a second chapter but I have a two week trip to visit extended family and a lot of packing that I am procrastinating....so here we are. Fully expect more writing from me very soon and know that I wrote it trying to avoid people.
> 
> Also there's a lot of Luna and Emilia ogling Simon and to be honest it was me projecting because I saw a photoshoot where he was shirtless and damn. That's all I got to say.
> 
> I have a tumblr (theuniversezecho) where you can check out more Soy Luna related posts or even just writing updates. As always, Thank you for reading!!


	3. It ain't true, ain't true, ain't true, no

Ámbar has decided from this moment on that she’s never drinking again. _ No, really. _ She means it this time. Nothing, not even a momentary break from reality, is worth the consistent pounding against her skull or the overall feeling like that of someone who was hit by bus. 

She comes to this conclusion while sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed, feeling too ill to move into a different position and trying to quell the nausea brewing in the pit of her stomach.

Jesus, how much did she drink last night?

The entire event is a blur and she can’t even ask Emilia about what happened because she was already gone by the time Ambar had woken, which Ámbar knows immediately was done on purpose. 

She groans as sunlight pours in through the sliver of window not covered by her blackout curtains. Her rooms looks almost demonic as every pale surface is washed out by the light, leaving only the black splotches of paint and eyeliner scribbled furniture visible. Though all Ámbar really cares about is how even with her eyes closed the light is blinding her. 

With a sigh so hefty she can feel it in her bones, she begrudgingly moves from her comfortable spot to tug at the fabric and emerge herself in darkness. Going as far as grabbing her sunglasses to ensure not a spot of light makes it to her line of sight. The way it should be. 

Knowing that sitting on her bed will just result in a five hour nap, Ambar chooses to wander her room instead to walk off the ache in her bones and stretch her tense limbs. 

She swears to her liver that if it just pulls through for her one last time she’ll be kinder to it from now on. 

The last thing she wants to do right now is to try and find her phone in the mess that is currently her room, but Sharon still hasn’t contacted her since their meetup in the coffee shop and she starting to get worried. Worried that Sharon was a threat to herself now that she was willing to go so far for some so called ‘revenge’. 

Sure at some point Ámbar too wanted to get back at the Valentes for stealing everything from under her but she was starting to question if any of this anger was truly her genuine feelings on the matter or just a result of being raised, and in turn manipulated, by Sharon. 

She didn’t know. And quite honestly doesn’t think she’s ready to find out. It seems as though she won’t have to pursue the topic today because a quick glance at her locked phone screen shows five missed calls from Emilia, probably from the night before, and an ominous text for Ramiro she’ll have to decide later but more importantly, there was nothing from Sharon. Nothing at all, not a text or a call or even a voicemail to let Ambar know she was safe and thinking of her. 

It’s a bitter feeling. Ambar hadn’t noticed how dependant she had become to these updates but it was the best she could get. Even if Sharon there physically to come to her shows and watch her perform, at least she cared enough to call once in a while. Now Ambar didn’t even have that. 

A series of knocks at her bedroom door interrupts her train of thoughts just as they were spiraling. 

Assuming it’s Emilia on the other side, Ambar goes to answer while commencing her questioning. 

“Emilia I swear if you don’t tell me every detail about-“

The words find themselves lodged inside her throat as Matteo looks back at her in front of the open entryway. The atmosphere surrounding them turns tense as Ámbar crosses her arms against her chest to immediately put up her façade once again. 

"What do you want?" 

"What no warm welcome?" He answers jokingly, trying to break the ice. At the lack of response he attempts a second try, "Not even going to let me in?"

'Uh no, obviously not'. Is what Ámbar wants to respond with. 

To keep herself safe from exposing vulnerabilities, Ámbar has built carefully created walls to separate herself from anyone she deems emotionally dangerous. The second anyone steps into her room, from the hall, they are disrupting a very important boundary, and one that she would like to keep to herself. 

It always became significantly harder to put on her 'I don't care about you' mask when she was surrounded by the newly vandalized items that she once cherished. No amount of black sharpie could change the fact that this room used to be one she thought was a perfect representation of her personality, all pink and shiny and meant to be admired from afar as it's fragile. Only for her to now look around and despise each item with her core, in turn also hating the person she once was. She just barely managed to keep on her mask when Alfredo and Monica barged in. 

Matteo, though, was a special case. 

Ambar remembers when they were still together. Everyone thought of them as the power couple. The king and queen of the rink. But the two of them knew the truth. Their relationship was nothing more than a mirage, a perfect pretty picture set in a broken frame.

Even so, spending that much time with any individual forces a connection to bloom between you. Nights spent under a night full of stars in the back of her house, drinking bottles away is what started their real relationship. They shared stories of being raised by demanding guardians, Matteo's dad and Ambar's godmother, disguised as casual conversation clouded with alcohol. As these conversations multiplied, their relationship was beginning to grow into something real. Ámbar started calling music agencies for him, knowing how much music meant to him, Matteo brought flowers to each of her competitions and performances, knowing that the empty spot in the audience belonging to Sharon carved an expanding hole in her heart. She had really thought for a little while there that they could have something true and real.

And then Luna showed up. Luna with her clumsy lack of grace, an energy that radiated joy, a childlike naivety and none of the mental walls Ámbar had built to protect herself. It was in the way that she held herself that pissed Ámbar off within seconds of seeing her, like she didn't have a care in the world, like she never had to doubt herself or fake her way to happiness.

Though she was learning recently that it wasn't all Luna's fault. She held maybe 10% of the blame. The real relationship ruiner was herself. 

She overheard Matteo speaking to Gaston when he first broke up with her. "She's like a parasite, all she does is take and once she's done with you, you're left infected with her virus". She didn't understand him at the time, thought he was just speaking from a place of false vengeance, now though she understood. Similar words find their way into her thoughts. 

"How can you speak of love when you're so full of hate?"

The sudden feeling of vulnerability that runs through her body, raising goosebumps on her arms, dims her sense of judgement. In a move that she knows she'll regret later, she moves slightly to the side to allow Matteo entrance to her room. At least with his presence she can kept her mind distracted for a little while, she really doesn't know what she'll do if she's left alone with her thoughts right now.

She feels, more than hears, him follow her and the door closing behind her is confirmation of the fact.

She watches him cautiously as he makes himself comfortable on her bed, wiggling to find a good spot and settling with a pillow in his lap. Once satisfied he looks back to Ámbar with a teasing grin.

"Nice room" Despite having been in her room before he compliments it as if it's the first time. Though technically, she supposes, that it's her redecorating that he's complimenting. 

"Thanks" Her response is direct, reactionless. Matteo doesn't seem to mind though as he continues observing the rest of her room, his eyes briefly landing on her closet. 

"You know you missed something pretty interesting this morning over breakfast."

"Is that so?" Ámbar replies with a monotone voice, expressing her disinterest in anything Matteo had to say.

"Yeah, there was a whole situation with Simon. Apparently he lost his favourite sweater."

Ámbar's eyes widen slightly as she thinks of how to proceed with handling the situation. It's obvious from his tone that Matteo knows fully well what he's implying and it's up to her to dissuade him. She folds her arms against her chest and leans back against her door frame while still facing Matteo, trying to seem unaffected and failing miserably. 

"You wouldn't know where this sweater is, by any chance, would you?" He presses on.

"No of course not." To a random onlooker the subtle twitch in her left eyebrow and the way her lip catches against one of her teeth wouldn't discredit her statement, but Matteo knows better than anyone (well almost better than anyone) that both signs indicate that she's lying. 

”Really?" He asks one more time, to give her the opportunity to tell the truth. At the sight of her overly prideful nod he decides to take it a step further. "Then you wouldn't mind if I just -" It's almost comical how quickly Ámbar runs to guard her closet from Matteo. He sits there smugly as he watches Ámbar comes to term with the fact that he just faked getting up to watch her reaction.

Even once her body has come to a stop, it still twitches slightly with the pent up adrenaline that couldn’t be released. While grasping and attempting to put herself together, Ambar smoothes down her hair and clothing before finally addressing the situation, “You’re not getting the sweater.”

Matteo notices the specific set of words she uses to bring her point across. Not just ‘I’m not giving you the sweater’ but ‘You’re not getting it’. That’s okay, he’s sure the sweater can’t be  _ that  _ important to Simon. If anything Simon can just buy himself a new one. Besides, despite Ambar’s belief, Matteo isn’t actually here because of a sweater.

His eyebrows furrow and he grows seldom as the atmosphere changes drastically around them. With a voice so earnest Ambar can feel her heart doing flips in her chest, Matteo asks, “Ambar why haven’t you just apologized and rejoined our team?”

Ambar rolls her eyes and lets out a deep sigh and Matteo can almost see the walls built around growing taller and taller.

“I know you came to visit me in the hospital.” He blurts out, afraid that if he edges along the truth for too long Ambar will be so far along isolating herself that it wouldn’t even do any good. At her delay of sending him out Matteo finds himself even more determined to let out all the emotional build up stirring within him, “I know your new intense style and attitude is to show us that you don’t care anymore but I see right through it. If you really hated us that much you would’ve already moved out by now. And don’t use money as an excuse because even without the Benson fortune you could find a decent apartment for a couple of months. Or applied to university, which you would easily get accepted into with your credentials.”

Ambar’s left a little speechless at Matteo’s spiel but cuts him off denying, “I don’t care about you, any of you.”

“For someone who lies so much you're really bad at it.”

It’s with those words that she knows there's no place else this conversation could go. He knows. He knows every dark truth that she tried to hide but it’s hard okay. She knows she shouldn’t let them affect her. Knows after letting Simon in and having her heart broken in pieces at the hands of him. Why let someone get to know her if they’re only going to decide that she’s not good enough? And yet for some reason they all still have a way of yanking her walls down and reaching for her heart. 

His fingers press steadily against her arm. Knowing he’s gotten through to her he, he rises from her bed and quietly makes it out of her room. Leaving Ambar standing alone and pondering his words.


End file.
